The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, November 29, 1896, Page 24

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 29, 1896. \ i i il I'l ik n)o)l('f’j' E)((()j'f. There's a fanny thing I'd like to say About our last Thanksgiving day. The turkey wasn't the only one That gobbled till the feast was done. My litt'e brother’s such a pig T do believe he'd eat a great big Turkey all himself and make His stomach have an awful ache. S0. to be sure that he did not, I also ate a dreadful lot: And mamma sald we ought to bs Ashamed of it, but don’: you see 1’m not to blame for gobbling so, But just my little brother Joe. EDITH OWEN. Ok, such a glorious Thanksgiving day! The air so clear, the sky so blue, and that football game! * surse all the boys and girls in this C » there and now we should like son. = of the C. R.C. to write a nice long 4« .cr, telling all about it for the benefit of the country members. A little boy who writes to us sometimes thinks “Gobolinks’ must be drawn, so for his benefit I reprint to-day instructions for producing these odd creatures. Drop some ink from your pen on the center of a sheet of paper, then fold the paper three or four times; open, and be- hold! a gobolink! A few children still persist in writingon both sides of their paper. Please remem- ber to write on one side cnly. Antoinette Crawford—~Am very sorry, but I have only one copy. You will fina what you wish at the business office of TeE CALL on Market street. What has become oi*Eva Navone, Ar- thur Sugden and Marie Chesworth? .- ay s 2 . Willée 3 Bas Bafga(n. BY FRANCES LAPLACE (13)£ YEARS). . One bright June day Willie's aunt Mary took lunch with his mother. When it was time for her to leave, as she kissed the little boy good-by, sheslipped a bright silver doliar into one of his rosy hands. Oh, how happy be was, and how big that dollar looked! Willie spent a great deal of time in thinking of the lovely things he could buy with it, and loved to take it out of his pocket and look at it many times a day. One afternoon as he was running rayly down the street, his beloved dollar tightly | clasped in one little band, he met an old organ-grinder, and capering around on' the top of the organ was the cutest, tiniest | mori be had ever seen. | Willie stopped and stared, with mouth wide open, at the man and his monkey. ©Ob, if I might buy that monkey with my dollar, how bappy I should be!” thought the boy. So he plucked up his courage and timidly asked, **Please, Mister Organ-grinder, will you sell me that little monRey 2" “How mucha mona you giva for da monk?”’ answered the Italian. Now before we go on with the story 1 must tell you that the man was very wicked and cunning. He knew that no matter how much money might be given him' for his monkey the animal was so | vicious and mischievous that no one conld possibly keep it but himself, and by ‘hanging around the premises of its pur- | chasers he would soon recover ‘possession | of his monkey again. : So'when Willie, holding up his precious dollar, said “This much,” the Italian answered: “Taka da monka, bov. I sella hima vera cheapa. Hima no bita; vera gooda monk.” Tha bargain being settled Willie started for home, clasping his purchase tight in his arms, while the organ-grinder slyly watched him until he entered his father's grounds. ~1 soona geta monk back; plenta mona buy good vinu,” he muttered as he walked away. ‘When Willie rushed into the house and showed the monkey to his mother she de- clared she would not have it about. The poor little boy begged so hard to be al- lowed to keep it that she finally con- sented on condition that he keep it in the woodshed. So Mr. Monkey was taken to his new quarters; but, alas! Willie forgot to shut the door. Supper time came and Willie bad not yet dared to tell his father how he had spent his dollar, but his papa soon found out without his little son’s telling him anything about it. ‘When the family were all seated around the table piercing screams were suddenly beard issuing from ihe yard. Willie's father rushed out and found Bridget, al- most frightened to death, with a dark ob- ject on her shoulder and two wicked little hands tugging fiercely at her hair. w! ow! Oh! take it away! Ehure an’ it’s 2 monkey. Och! be quick and take it away!”” screamed th e poor girl. once more, but not to passthe night there. Willie went to sleep wondering if his father would consent to allow him to keep his new pet. About midnight Mrs. Page awoke her husband, saying, “John, John, wake up, quick! Don’t you hear that noise in the pantry 2" They both listened for a second, and then a loyd crash, like that which follows the breaking of crockery, greeted their ears. Jumping from bed Mr. Page cautiously )hurried toward the pantry, taking the stovepoker in his hand as a weapon of de- fense against a possible burglar. When he opened the door all was dark and silent within, but as he struck a match to light the gas something sprang upon his shoulder and then jumped, chat- tering, to the floor. Of course, it was the monkey. The door of the woodshed had been in- securely fastened and had been blown open by the wind. as she gave him a hearty kiss and then danced merrily away to show her new treasure to her own dear mother. Brssie McMAHON. A 3 Ghankpgiving Party. Four hungry-looking aninials All seated in a row; : Why does not some one speak to them? That's what I want to know. They all of them were bidden to A fine Thanksgiving feast, And now, it seems to me, their host Might welcome them, at least, 'Twas Master Pug invited them— Why does he not appear? 'Tis plain they think his absence looks Extremely rude and queer. Alas! poor Pug's ia trotble sore, The host he cannot play; No feast for self or friends has he On this Thanksgiving day. He saw a turkey, large and fat, Upon the kitchen shelf; “That’s just the very thing I want,” Said he unto himself. He caughit the turkey, but the cook Caught him with firmer grasp, And shook him till he could not bark, But only choke and gasp. Meanwhile, those hungry animals, Who'd waited there in vain, Declared they never would be guests Of Mr. Pug again. MAX PANDORE in Our Little Ones and the Nursery. Tl ]Ba&('e_f na Bag. Out West, last spring, two young men were plowing when they found two young coyotes, a species of prairie-dog. They tried totake the coyotes home. Afteragood deal of trouble with the fatker and mother, who tried to recover their dear babies from these, o them, cruel monsters, the men succeeded in driving the father ana mother away, and then tied the babies se- curely in a bag. They watched the bag for a whilé; but, as the father and mother did not attempt to come nearer than the edge of the wood, they thought they were thorough!y frightened and would not try Dick and Beach, the others, are the work- horses. Dick, who is black also, was the carriage-horse before master bought Belle. Beach is white and is a very hard worker; and oh, he is such a noble fellow. Then come the dogs—Sportand Fido. Sport is a fat, brown dog, with curly hair, and he has lived here ever and ever so long. He frolics and is a pretty good sort of a fellow, but awfully greedy. He plays a fanny trick on Fido and me very. often. He is so cunning about it that he fools us every time. When weare busily engaged eating our dinner,.all at once he runs, barking with all his might, down the driveway. Of course we follow to see what's up. Then ‘the sly feliow runs back as quickly as he can and gob- bles up all of our dinner. Fido is a little black and tan. Heisa tiny fellow and is very jealous of me. Whenever he sees our little mistress play- ing with me he growls and snarls with anger, but he loves Sport very much and seems perfectly happy when our mistress fondles that big fat fellow. A great many cats live here, but they don’t like the way I play, for the moment they sece me coming they hunch up their tacks, spit, and then turn around and scamper up the trees, where they know I can’t go.- “Baby” is the large house pussy. He is a great pet and puts on very high and mighty airs. He won’t deign to eat with the rest of the pets, but has his meals served on a white plate in the dining- room. I'm never ailowed to get any vlace near him, for he is so afraid of me. I think that's too bad, don’t you? 1’d just like to get close enough to admire his beauty, ana then I think it would be great fun to make him run real fast, just once. The queerest and most comical pets on the place are the two owls. They are what my mistress calls “monkey-faced | owls,” and are quite large, having beauti- | ful plumage, sharp curved bilis and bright shiny eyes. They make a ternble noise all night. They sit and squeal and squeal like figh!ing monkeys, until my ears fairly ring, Their favorite food is un- cooked birds and they have ravenous ap- petites. When my master is helping them a second time at a meal they snap at his fingers and act as if they would like to bite him. A very impolite thing for any pet to do, don’t you think so? =] -— JVV ) B FRISTMA S i S = f@\ i 7 v ; s ~ Ui %‘fim__»___- R “YOU GOT AWAY FROM THANKSGIVING, OLD FELLOW, BUT CHRISTMAS’LL GET YOU.” Mr. Page dragged it from her shoulder and exclaimed, “Why, Bridget, whose monkey is it, and how did it get here?’” “Shure it's meself that don’t know,” she answered. So they hurried into the house, Mr. Page holding the monkey by the back of the neck, much to its discomfort, to try and solve the mystery. When Willie saw his pet being so rougkly handled he cried, ‘‘Oh! papa, you're hurting my dear little monkey.” TLen of course the secret was out. “Your monkey ! exclaimed his father in’surprise. *‘\Where did you get a mon- key?” “Why, papa, I bought him with my silver dollar from an old organ-grinder.” “Well, my boy, you may take him back to the cr.an-grinder to-morrow, for we cannot be bothered with such a nuisance.” ,"‘Oh, paps, please, please, let me keep him. I can teach him 10 be gentle, I'm sure. I can,”” begged Willie, while the tears streamed down his face. “Well, I'll think about it and decide to- morrow,’’ saia Mr. Page, “but he must be secured in the woodshed for the night.” So out to the woodshed the animal went WILLIE’S BAD BARGAIN. Attracted by the savory odors of ihe pantry the monkey soon tore a hole in the mosquito netting which covered the open window and gained an entrance. As he clambered over the shelves of course everything movable was. thrown down, and pies, cakes, butter and eggs swam in the milk which flocded the floor. Mr. Page called his wife and Bridget to see the condition of their pantry and to help bim catch the cause of the trouble, who bad disappeared. Just as they had finished searching through the rooms downstairs they were startled by terrified yells from Willie. “Quick! Quick!” said Mrs. Page, ‘“‘the monkey must be in his room,” as she dashed up the stairs, followed by her hus- band and Bridget. | Mr. Page hastily lighted the gas, while | his wife flew to her boy, and Bridget | stood in the door flourishing the broom. The light disclosed poor Willle sitting up in bed, the monkey perched on his shoulder, puMing his hair with one band and scratching the dear little face with | the otner. ‘Mr. Page was so ang-y at this sight that "he grasped the animal by the neck and, opening the window, flung .him into the street, not without receiving a few bites and scratches in the scuffle. It was quite a while before all the dam- age done that night was repaired, and Willie bore the marks of the monkey's claws for some time. One day, about a month after this, Wil- lie again met the organ-grinder and, much to his surprise, he had with him the same wicked little monkey. ; The man knew him, and said, with = grin: “Don’t you lika buya monk to-day ? I sella vella cheapa: Good monk—ao bita.” . . But Willie walked away without paying | any attention to the two well-mated com- panions, and I'm’sure aiter his woeful ex- perience he always asks the advice of his mother or father before he spends-his sil- ver doilars, 3 ) . Ka iy @a’\s +It was Kit's birthday! . A joyiul time, indeed; and there wasa ‘kis3 and a speech and a Iittle present for her from everybody. < But when Kit saw grandpa-coming hér face fell, for he. bad his hands behind him. Had he brought herno gift? Grand- pa kissed her five times for her five years apd then his hands came in sight, and in them was a long, slim roil of paper. “You are getting =0 old, iittle Kit,”” he said, “‘that I have brought you a cane!” Oh, how Kit felt! What did sbe want with a cane! ° Buvas she was a polite little girl she took it, kissed him and $aid “Thank you, grandpa.” « The cane was rolled in several sheets of silky paper and pretiily tied with pink ribbons. ® Kit took the papers off one by one, and when the very Jast one was removed she gave a little scream of delight, *'Oh, oh, oh!” Itwas a cane, to be sure, but a candy cane. A cane made of candy, a vard long, gayly striped in red and white. | ) “Hurrah for you, grandpa!" cried Kit, | 1to get their babies back. The men fol- | lowed the plow from end to end of the field, passing the little creatures in the bag several times. ESuddenly there was a strange sight when they turned down the field. Tt was the mother coyote dragging field to the woods. She reached the woods with the bag, escaping the men, and there probably ripped the bag open and let her babies out. She seemed to know that to let them out of the bag in the field would mean recapture; she could run with them tied up faster than they could run if free. MNaming Maid g Any boy who has been about a carpen- ter-shop, or has handled a saw and ham- mer bimself, knows ail about the different kinds of nails—fourpenny, eightpenny, tenpenny and so on—and perhaps he has sometimes wondered why the different sizes are known as ‘‘pennies.” Origipally, an eightpenny nail, for ex- ample, was cailed “eight-pound” nail, be- cause a thousand nails of that particular size weighed eight pounds. = Carpenters were not particalar about pronouncing the nanes very clearly, and in a short time an pun” naii; from that it became chauged to ‘“‘eight-pen’’; and then somebody think- ing ‘“pen” was a contraction for ‘‘penny,” changed it to “‘eightpenny,” and that's the way it has remained to thisday. It is somewhat curious that a poand should bave worked its way downto a venny; and ‘that when we say penny we really mean pound.—St. Nicholas. /CP;E Tl Bon'\;'ey-‘ My two little bunnies did say to-me, Asl g;ve them their food one bright summer ay, 2 +O please send our pictures right away, For we want to be members of C. R. C.” A DMog’y buin Ston. ELSA L. UPHAM. To-day I'm going to introduce all my animal friends to you. First, the three horses. These dear friends of mine have a beautiful stable painted bright red, and they are very faithful servants to our master. Belle, the carriage-horse, is a beautifal biack and has a long silky mane and tail. the bag with her babies in it across the | Now, with three barks, which mean three cheers, for our new President, I re- | main your friend Rex. —————— An absent-minded old gentleman went into a shop to buy a new cane. “That's a very nice one,” he said, pick- ing one up from the counter. “How much is that?” “That’s the one you brought in with you. ‘You just laid it down there, eir,” said the shopkeeper. “‘Ob, really?” said the old gentleman. “Then I don’t need a new one. Good- day.” And he walked out. . eight-pound nail was known as an *“‘eight- | 8ax FrANcIsco, Nov. 20, 1896. Dear Editor: l1am a little girl 8 yearsold. Iam in the third grade at school, and I have Miss Hammond for my teacher. I have a little brother who goes to school also, and he is in the second grade. Ihave been absent from school seven mouths, for I have been very sick. Mamma is soon going to take me to Los Angeles to visit my auntie and my three little cousins. Mamma thinks the change will'make me better. Ihave acanary bird.and a kitten; also three beautiful large dolls. Ihope you will publish my letter next Sunday. Your little friend, EMELIA MAY GUNNARSON. s OARLAND, Cal,, Noy. 16, 1896. Dear Editor: Since we must coniribute sowething to “Childhood’s Realm” in order to belong to the C. R. C., I am going to send you an enigma. I hope you will put’it in the paper, because I want to belong to the club. Ithink it was a good idea to have that club. Iam 10 years old and in the fiith grade at school. Hoping you will not think I write too often because I have written twice before this, Iremain your constant reader, % BETH JOHNSTONE. SAN FRANCISCO, November 16, 1896, Dear Fditor: I1#m 8 years old. This is my first letter, and I should like to see itin Sun- day’s CaLL. I tiave a big, white cat named Snowball, and she has a kitten named Snow- drop, because he is so white. We take THE CALL and we think it is very nice. 1g0 to the CooperSchool. %y teacher's name is Miss Hobe, and she is very kind. Your friend, MABEL C. MECCHIL GOLDEN GATE, Cal., November 22, 1896. Dear Editor: It took along time for me to dare to write & letter to THE CALL, but here it is, allmy own. I'am a little girl 8 years old, in the third grade in the Emeryville School. My teacher’s name is Miss Yates. Iam always anxious to see THE SUNDAY CALL for the Chijl. dren’s Realm, and try to get the puzzles right. Ishould like to be a member of the G, R.C. Would you please let me see my letter )é: ‘&u 's:ndu' cuzx'.‘?‘uwa alwdun take THE ave two ens and a re myown. Your little friend, PaLal GERDA HENDRICKSON, 8Ax FRANCISCO, Nov. 22, 1896. Dear Editoy: 1am s little girl 6 years old and I am going to start to school piter New Year's. My mamma and papa have taken THE 5 PROFESSOR LEO FORTISSIMO AT HIS BEST. CALL for years and {ike it very much. I love [am glad McKinley is elected. I hope to seq to look at the pictures, but cannot read yet, but | my letter in your nextSunday’s CALL. Very my sister Mabel reads to me. I have two pets, & dog named Tony and a goat named Bessie. I was very much disappointed not tosee my first letter printed in Sunday’s CALL. Last month we received a campaign hat of Major McKinley on one side and Mr. Bryan on the other. Iturned mine with the McKinley side out becaure I wanted McKinley to be our Pres- ident. This is allI can write this time. Hoping to see my letter in next Sunday’s CALL, good- by. IRENE BRANDON. 8100 Laguna street. LINCOLN, Cal., Nov. 21, 1896. Dear Editor: Ithought I would write, as I have not written for a long time. I like to go to school pretty well, and have lots of fun playing at recess. Igenerally play jump the rope. Every Sunday I can hardly wait for the children’s page when I see papa coming with the paper. Iliked the story of “The Haunted Castle” very much, although I do not believe those kind of stories; but they ate very pretty. We have, two pet kittens and a dog which came to our house a few daysago. The kit- tens’ names are Bessie and Tommie. Bessie is gray and Tommie is black. I think I shall close now and write more next time. Ihope to see my letter in THE CALL. Your little writer, MINNIE WYATT. Sax Fraxcisco, Nov. 25, 1896. Dear Editor: This is my second letter to THE CaLL. Iam giad McKinley is elected, and hope we will have better times. (1ike the story. of the cute lad and Joe Little-White-Haswk. I hope my letter will escape the waste-basket. I remain, your truty, v CHRISTIAN W. VANDERYEEN. SAN Fraxcisco. Nov. 26, 1896. Deer Editor: This is the first time I have written to THE CALL. I have been reading the children’s page and enjoyed .it very'much. I thought Ishould like to write you. I go to 8t. Peter's Academy and my teacher’s name is Sis- tes Mary Ignatius, and I love her very dearly. I am 10 years old ard in the fifth grade. I have two brothers; oue is 9 years old and the other 6. Onewas for Bryan and the otlier for McKinley. Iam glad McKinley is elected. I would like t0 see my letter in Sunday’s CALL. Yonrs truly, MADELINE GIROT. - P s JAMESVILLE, €al., Nov. 26, 1896. Dear Editor: I have written to THE CALL be- fore and was pleased to see my letter in print. Grandma received a letter from mamma last night, saying she would come affer me in the spring. I should love to see mamma very much, but I 1ike tolive in the country, for I have a pany and saddle, and ride three miles to school every aay. Ishould like to see my sister and brother—Mary and teland. I°nave never seen Mary, though she will be a year old in December. Ishall sena agobolink ahd an- swers to seme puzzles. Good by, JOHN LESLIE MORRELL. 8AN Fraxcisco, Nov. 17, 1896. Dear Editor: 1read the children’s page every Sunday. and thought I would like to write you a letter. My cousin and 1 go to Reginald’s Academy, but when we get big we are going to the college. I have a crowd of sisters and brothers and we have lots of fun, because we liveaway out by the Chutes. The little ones who don’t go to school make me read’ the children’s page every Sunday. I ¢lose, hoving to see my letter in next Sunday’s paper. WILLIE KIRBY, 1224 Haight street. SIERRA CITY, Cal., Nov. 22, 1896. Dear Editor: 1 have solved some of the puzzles, so 1 send them to you. Taisis my foarth letter to THE CALL. My father says it is a fine paper, and he likes it better all the time. He says the cartoons are the best of any of the pupers. We take the Weekly Ex- aminer, but do mnot like it very much. I will not impose upon your space, so Iclose. In my next letter I will tell you about Sierra City. Your friend, THEODORE Joos (€. R. C.) ALAMEDA, Cal, Nov, 18,1896. Dear Editor: This is my first letter to THE CaALL. I am 11 years old and my papa has taken THE CALL ten years. I enjoy the chil- dren’s page very much. I have a little niece, 20 months old, living in San- Franecisco. I hope this letter will make me @ memter of your club. . Your friend, FLORENCE THOMAS. GRASS VALLEY, Cal., Nov. 25, 1896. Dear Editor: 1 was 9 years old last Thurs- day (November 12). I am in the fourth grade. I have a bics;clc and enjoy riding it. We take THE CALL anQ all enjoy reading it. I respectfully, ALICE W. UpTON, —_————— g — ) - { (v I. Dropped vowels. A proverb. mks wil wnt.—T. Joos (C. R. C.). II. Add five to & narrow street and make a low place between hills.—L. E. Johnson (C. R..C). HL Easy word squares: 1. To drag. 2. Fury. 3. Generations. 4. A point of the compass. IV. 1. Watery particles. 2. Not any. 3. Atone time. 4. A useless plant.—Alice Bell (C. R. C.). V. Hidden birds: (a) The lady looked at his wan face. (b) Mr. Barlow renewed-his insurance. VI. (a) He has gone to Dover. (b) Her bib is torn.—Lillie Maskow (C: R.C.). VII. Hidden name, familiar to members ot C.R.C. W, carry arms hid.—Max Selig (C. R. C.)i VIIL I have a box. (a) It has two lids. (b) It has two caps. (¢) Two musical instruments, (d) Two established measures. (¢) Articles needed by a carpenter. () Two good fish. 19) Many smali shell-fish, (k) Two lofty trees. (i) Some gaudy flowers. (j) Fruit. (k) Two gentle little animals, (D A number of smaller animals. (m) A fine stag. (n) Many smal) whips without handles, (0) Two places of worship. (p) Weupons of warfare. (@) A number of weathercocks. (r)-Steps of a hotel. (s) Something heard in legislative halls. (t) In this box you will ind two students,— Contributed by Gertie Leonard. IX. My first should be given to one who has enjoyed my second. ¢ My whole is sure to be filled with pleasure by those who have given my first and enjoyed my second.—M. W. R. Wl wst Gorrect Answers Received. Correet answers to all or & majority of the puzzles for November 22 have been. receryed from Alice Bell (C. R. C.), Ella R. Hartnell (C. R. C.), Julia Hofzberger, Ina Hansbrough, Eva M. Bolger, Jessie Harkin, Clarissa Severance. Delhyed answers—November 11, John L. Marrell; November 15, Antolnette Crawtord (C. R. C.), Ida_Wightman, William Sea, Theo- dore Joos (C. R. C.), ana Blauche E. Stout. Letters Ackn;\)ledged Besides the letters published communica- tions have been received by the following: Aggle Peters, Va. M. Berri, Gladys Stephenson, Edward Hippely, Bertha Wollenberg (C. R. C.), Mabel Trapsman, Arthur R. Fennimore (C. R. C.), Hester Arthur, Gustave Trost, Frank Seglllia, Evelina Cordan, Russell Searle, Etta Lilian Pillsoiry, Miss H. F. Bailey, Elsie Davis, Henrietta Brandt, Antoinette Crawford, Alice McDonnell, L. Thora Hofers, Heston Bean, Madge Laicier and Willie Hines. THE MONKEY ATTACKS THE SERVANT. A